Golden Opportunity Chapter 1
by Sanssong
Summary: Johnny is offered a job, but will it be worth it? And things between he and Sarah grow more and more complicated, even as he is attracted to Dana Bright.


  
  
Title: Golden Opportunity (Part: 1/?)  
Author: Suzanne Tegart  
Paring: Johnny/ Dana  
Rating: PG-13  
Date: 07/11/02  
Summary: Johnny is offered a job, but will it be worth it?  
  
Disclaimer: The characters belong to King, Piller, USA and company. I'm just taking them out to play.   


.

  
There was no way in the world that this was going to work, he knew that so why was he even going down to the office where she worked? Desperation? Morbid curiosity? Desire?   
  
That was a question he really didn't want to answer right now. He couldn't even put his feeling for Sarah into perspective; much less decide how he felt about someone new. Still...there was something about all that fiery red hair and a personality to match. No, no way. He was not going to follow that line of thinking for another second. At least not for now... Maybe he'd think about it when he saw her this morning. Maybe he would accidentally touch her again and...Oh, God, what was he doing to himself?   
  
This meeting was not about Dana; it was about a job, a job as an investigative reporter. That's what Dana's boss said. He wanted Johnny Smith, ordinary schoolteacher turned front-page freak, to be the newest investigative reporter for the Bangor Daily News.   
  
He probably wouldn't even see her. He was just going to go in, tell this Madsen guy, Dana's boss, that he had the wrong guy for this job, and that would be it, in and out quick. But what if he saw her there? There was no way in the world that this was going to work.  


.

  
"Mr. Smith, please sit down". Madsen extended his hand; almost in the same instant he realized that John wouldn't shake it. Instead he used it to motion him to the chair nearest the desk. Johnny complied, easing his cane over to the side as he sat down.   
  
"Why am I here Mr. Madsen? I'm a school teacher, not a reporter."  
  
Madsen, chuckled inwardly, this guy didn't waste any time- or pull any punches.   
  
"I'm well aware of that fact Mr. Smith, but I think you poses other talents that make you uniquely qualified for this job. Besides, it's ex-schoolteacher isn't it?"  
  
Ignoring the pointed remark about his recent failed attempt to return to his old job, Johnny once again got to the heart of the matter.   
  
"If you are talking about my visions- they're not for sale."  
  
"Of course not, but wouldn't you like to use them for the common good? Not just randomly, but purposefully?" The editor leaned closer, over his desk. "Wasn't part of your desire to be a teacher to help people- to enlighten the ignorant?"  
  
"What you are talking about is different, besides, I don't know anything about being a reporter."  
  
Sensing he was gaining ground, Madsen pressed his advantage.   
  
"You do know how to write, don't you?"  
  
Johnny paused, annoyed but not yet wanting to piss the guy off.   
  
"Yes." This time John met his eyes before answering.   
  
"But you and I both know that being able to put a paragraph together and doing the work of an investigative reporter are two very different things."   
  
"Let me ask you something John- you don't mind if I call you John do you?"  
  
John inclined his head indicating his consent.  
  
"John did you or did you not, find your Doctor's long lost Mother in Viet Nam? Did you not, just recently re-unite two old lovers? And wasn't it you that helped the Penobscot County Sheriff's department solve a series of murders?"   
  
Madsen finished and leaned back in his chair with a self-satisfied smirk. And when Johnny didn't try to deny the events, Madsen continued.   
  
"To me John, that constitutes the making of a first class investigative reporter."   
  
"I'm not exactly the reporter type." It was time to end this little farce. "Look, I did what I did out of concern for the people involved, not to get 'a story'. That's not who I am."  
  
"Of course not," Madsen cut in quickly. "You're not the barracuda type and frankly I don't need another one, I've got Dana Bright for that. I need someone who can see into the heart of a story- get at the truth, maybe even catch a few more bad guys. But with subtlety and finesse, that should appeal to someone like you John."   
  
"You mean you want me to see into people's lives with out their knowledge."   
  
"Maybe."  
  
John had heard enough. All this sleaze wanted was a hometown version of the National Enquirer. John gripped his cane and pulled himself up.   
  
"Now, John, sit down, you didn't let me finish." Madsen got to his feet and walked around finally coming to rest of the edge of the desk in front of his perspective employee.   
  
"Most investigative reporters use plain old intuition and hard work to "see into people's lives without their knowledge" as you called it. There is nothing illegal or immoral about it. Despite what you're thinking, I have no intention of turning the Bangor Daily into the National Enquirer."   
  
Johnny looked mildly surprised that the man had guessed his thoughts so easily.   
  
"The truth is, despite your unique gift, I think your compassion for people and your desire to expose the truth would make you a damn fine reporter. The fact that you have an edge in getting at that truth is just an added bonus."   
  
Madsen pinned him with an earnest expression.  
  
"What have you got to lose?"   
  
Johnny was quiet for a few moments as he thought about his current choices. He couldn't work as a teacher anymore and he refused to sit idle in that big house of his. He didn't need the money, but he did need the activity.   
  
"I'll think about it Mr. Madsen. That's the best I can offer you."  
  
"Fair enough, John, I'll call you in a few days and you can give me your decision then."  
  
As Johnny got up to leave, Madsen, moved to open the office door. Not yet able to move as quickly as he would like, John was unable to avoid brushing the Editor's shoulder as he left the room.   
  
A rapid succession of images stormed Johnny's mind; he was at the podium of a large auditorium, thanking Mr. Madsen for his help and support as he accepted the Pulitzer Prize for Investigative Reporting. Perhaps there was more to this offer that met the eye.   
  
"I look forward to hearing from you Mr. Madsen."

.

  
  
"Well, well, come to mingle with the little people, Mr. Smith?"  
  
Dana's defensive posture belied her casually sarcastic remarks. Her defenses were definitely up, Johnny had a hunch he knew why. He couldn't get her image of the two of them together out of his mind either. And he had tried.   
  
"Actually, I've been offered a job working with 'the little people', Ms. Bright." Coming to a stop in front of Dana, Johnny leaned on his cane and studied her face. "You're editor, Mr. Madsen, thinks that I might make a top notch investigative reporter."   
  
"You're not actually thinking of taking him up on it are you?" If the look of disbelief on her face was any indication, she didn't share her boss's optimistic view of his potential as a reporter.

His raised eyebrow said that he just might.   
  
"Really, well.... he's been wrong before."   
  
"Thanks for the vote of confidence, Ms. Bright."   
  
"Call me Dana." She purred.   
  
"Well, - Dana- if you don't mind, I'm late for my next appointment." He started for the door.   
  
"Lunch, with an old girlfriend, by any chance?" Oh, God, why did she ask, she absolutely didn't want to know. Besides which, she intended to have him, old girlfriend or not.   
  
As if divining her thoughts, John smiled slightly and turned to answer her extremely loaded question.   
  
"As a matter of fact, I'm meeting my physical therapist and he gets very upset with me when I'm late."   
  
John shouldn't have been glad that she was jealous, but his was. Good Lord, this was getting complicated. And just to make matters worse, as soon as his fingers touched the outside doorknob, closing the front door, he was flooded with more erotic images of himself with the lovely Dana Bright. He decided that a good workout was exactly what he needed after all.

.

"So, are you going to tell me what happened or are you just going to keep trying to knock yourself out with that barbell?" Bruce flipped the chair he was standing next to around and sat with his arms draped over the back.

"Weren't you the one who told me to put my back into it?" Johnny grimaced, pumping hard to bring the bar to the edge of his chin.

Bruce laughed and shook his head. "You my friend are what I call the 'classic avoider'"

"The what?" Johnny's face was a mixture of laughter and puzzlement.

" 'The Avoider'. You know- the guy that almost never answers a question directly, the guy who only tells you what he wants you to know."

This time John did laugh outright. "So now I'm James Bond, huh?"

"Yeah, and the cane really finishes out the look!"

"They offered me a job." Switching arms he continued with his workout.

"Investigative Reporter, the guy thinks my 'unusual abilities' will make me a natural."

"I'll just bet he does. News people! They're all alike, they have to get the story, no matter what." As John finished his last rep, Bruce pushed up off the chair and took the barbell from him, placing it on the rack.

"I think there may be more to this than just another angle for a story."

"Man your brain really was re-wired! You really think the head of a major newspaper isn't going to use you to get the stories that no one else can?" He handed John a towel.

"No…. I mean, yes, but not in the way you think—really." Wiping the sweat off his forehead, he fixed Bruce with a meaningful stare.

"Oh, I get it, you did the whole touchy thing with him and got his life's history- right?"

Johnny thought a minute before answering, remembering the flash of insight. "When he walked past me to open the door, I got a brief look at what was inside, that's all."

"Oh, that's all." Bruce's look told him what he thought about Johnny gift for understatement. "So, what did you see that makes you think this guy is different from all the rest?"

"Enough to know that getting the story is not his primary goal."

"Uh huh…see what I mean… 'Mr. Avoider'. Well come on Mr. A you still have to do your legs."

.

Sarah stood in the middle of her kitchen frowning as she held the receiver to her ear. If you looked closely you could see the small wrinkle between her eyebrows indicating that she was more than a little concerned. So what else was new?

"You are not actually considering taking this reporter job are you? This Madsen is only trying to take advantage of you Johnny."

"I do need a job Sarah. I can't keep sitting in my house doing nothing but leg curls with Bruce." Sarah tried to interrupt but he cut her off. "Listen, this offer is on the level- I know it for a fact."

"You know I was talking to Principal Pelson yesterday and there's a chance they'll let you substitute teach at the school after everything calms down."

Johnny sighed on the other end of the phone and rolled his eyes heavenward. Good thing she couldn't see him right now. "Sarah, I will be all right. Even if Mr. Madsen has other motives for offering me this job, it's not a crisis. I can take care of my self."

Sarah chewed her bottom lip making the little wrinkle in her forehead deeper. "I know you can take care of yourself, Johnny. I just don't want to see you taken advantage of."

From the front of the house she heard the door slam and her husband and son entering the house. "Mommy!"

"Listen- I gotta' go, Walt and Johnny just got home. Will I see still you tomorrow after school?"

"Yeah, I'll be there, only no more brownies. Bruce thinks I'm getting soft."

"Okay, see you tomorrow."

"Bye".

.

Walt and Johnny entered the kitchen just as Sarah hung up the phone. Walt guessed that she must have been talking to Johnny Smith again. The slightly guilty look on her face gave her away.

He sighed inwardly and hoped he was doing the right thing letting his wife settle her feelings for her old fiancé for herself. Because it was killing him watching her cater to him like a stray puppy. And if he gambled with his marriage and lost, he was the real loser. Sarah was the best thing that ever happened to him.

"Mommy, look what we did in school today!"

Sarah bent down to kiss her son and examine the small object in his hand. It resembled a pumpkin. But it was purple.

"Oh honey, it's wonderful! I've never seen a better pumpkin in my whole life!"

Johnny beamed up at his mother and smiled from ear to ear. "Really?"

"Really! I'm going to put it right here on the counter so everyone can see this wonderful purple pumpkin. Now, I want you to go wash you hands because dinner is ready and I want to talk to daddy."

Johnny bounded down the hall, leaving his coat and backpack in his wake. Sarah smiled and shook her head as she watched him go.

"So, how's John?" Walt figured that the sooner he got to the heart of what was eating her the sooner he could get her to focus on them.

"Good. Therapy is going well and he had a good time with that woman you fixed him up with last night." She was chewing her lip again.

"And….?" Walt shed his coat and went to the sink to wash his hands before sitting at the table.

"The Bangor Daily News offered him a job as an investigative reporter."

Of all the things Walt expected to hear, that was not even on the list. It wasn't that long ago that Johnny Smith was the front-page headline of the Bangor Daily, maybe just this once Sarah wasn't overdoing her concern for the man. Walt finished drying his hands and helped her carry the food to the table. "Is he going to take it?"

"He hasn't decided yet, but he's seriously thinking about it. I don't like this one bit Walt, those people just want to use him.

"Most likely"

"But he's convinced that the job offer was genuine."

Johnny bounded in and took his place at the table.

"Maybe it was." Walt helped himself to the mashed potatoes and then gave some to his son.

"Walt!" Sarah gave him an impatient look. "Johnny's not a reporter, he's a teacher."

"The man can't teach anymore, Sarah, what do you suggest he do?"

"Well, I know that he has to do something, but I don't want to see him exploited by a bunch of cut throat newspaper people. Can you talk to him?"

"Look Sarah- what ever this thing –this gift is that Johnny has, it seems to make him a good judge of character. If he thinks the offer is genuine, then I think we should trust his judgment and stay out of his business."

.

"Johnny, Greg Madsen here." The voice coming over the phone was fading in and out. Cell phones. They took some getting used to. "I know that I said I would give you a couple of days to think over my offer, but something has come up that I'd really like your input on. Can you meet me in town, say this afternoon around 4:00?"

"I do have someone I'm supposed to meet, but I suppose I could re-schedule for tomorrow."

"Great, I'd really appreciate it. 4:00 then?"

"See you then."

Johnny hung up the phone not knowing what made him more uncomfortable, his disappointment over not seeing Sarah or the possibility that he might see Dana again.

.

Unlike yesterday morning, the newspaper office was a maelstrom of activity. There were twice as many people and they we're all in a hurry to go somewhere or get something done. Thoughts that this might not be such a good idea after all swirled about in his mind. The life of a reporter was definitely not what he was used to.

Johnny glimpsed Dana out of the corner of his eye, but she was engrossed with the person on the other end of the phone and didn't notice him. A temporary reprieve to be sure. She was much too sharp not to notice him eventually. The thought of spending more time with her suddenly filled him with anticipation. Almost at the same instant, Sarah's face swam before his eyes, looking as beautiful as he'd ever seen her, but sad.

This was not going to be easy. When he did form new relationships Sarah would be affected and things would change again. This was not something that could be changed or avoided as much as he like to. And there was always the possibility that the 'idea' of Sarah would always get in the way of being with anyone else. God, he hoped not. He didn't want to be alone for the rest of his life because he couldn't let go of the past.

Johnny announced himself to the girl at the front desk and was walking back to sit down when Madsen emerged from his office. Greg looked genuinely glad to see him.

Greg Madsen was actually a likable guy. He was probably close to sixty, but he had a young face and appeared to be in great shape for someone his age. He reminded Johnny of Beaver Cleaver's dad from the old sitcom, only older. He was the kind of person that just naturally engendered trust from the people around him. John figured that must be rare in the news business.

"Johnny, good you're here. Come on in and sit down." Madsen headed into his office very intent. Some of the easygoing aura from the day before was gone.

"I know that you probably haven't made your mind up about the opportunity we discussed yesterday, but something has come up and I wanted to see if you would be willing to work with me on this one story before you made up your mind one way or another. Let's call it a trial period at the end of which you can give me your decision"

"That's possible. What did you have in mind?"

"I'll get right to it. My best friend from high school owns a fishing business who's primary product is Lobster. He's been doing it for years- very successful, and never had any trouble, till now.

Last month for no apparent reason, his company became the target of some people who claim to be advocates for the environment. They claim that his business and others like it will eventually destroy the Lobster population and do permanent damage to the environment.

They are vandalizing his boats and warehouses, doing some real damage. But, it's only his property they are targeting."

"You think there is something else going on here, right?"

"Yes, I do." Greg got up and walked to the window behind his chair and stared out at the traffic.

"The police are working on it, but these people are very clever. They disguise themselves and never leave anything behind that could be a link to their true identity. The only tangible clues they have given us are a few threatening letters, the kind that use letters cut out from a magazine. No fingerprints of course and no return address. My friend, Jerry Roark is his name, actually caught them in the act one night, but they were wearing masks and got away before he could stop them."

"My problem as head of the paper is that we have always tried to be a supporter of environmental groups and their causes. I do believe that we should do everything in our power to save our natural resources for the next generation and The Bangor Daily has always maintained that view."

Johnny could guess what the dilemma was. Unfortunately Mr. Madsen had just about painted himself and his paper into a philosophical corner.

"You want to help your friend Mr. Roark and help the police get to the bottom of the attacks, but you don't want to compromise the papers stand on environmental issues. Besides which if you used the paper to help your friend, people might think you don't have the objectivity to report the news the way you should."

"Yes," Madsen turned around to face John again before he spoke. "I don't think for one minute that these people are genuinely interested in the environment, but if I really go after them in print, it might ruffle a whole lot of feathers.

The thing is, Jerry is concerned about how his business and others like it affect the eco-system here. He's one of the few really successful harvesters that have put back at least as much if not more that what he's taken out. He's not an irresponsible guy. In fact he's the last person I'd expect any environmental group to go after."

Madsen sat down again satisfied that he had communicated the majority of the problem to Johnny. "If you're willing, I need you to examine a couple of things. One of the letters, and possibly one of the boats where the most damage has been done. I want your help to solve this thing quietly, out of the public eye. There could be a story in it for you if you want it, but only after everything is settled."

Johnny wasn't entirely sure of where he stood on the whole political environmental issue, but he was inclined to help Greg Madsen. Plus the fact that vigilantism had never set well with him no matter what the reason. Violence of that kind rarely solved anything.

Okay, so what did he have to lose? Nothing of course and it actually felt kind of good to be necessary again.

"I'll help."

Greg didn't realize how tense he had become until he felt the relief that resulted from John's answer. This whole stupid situation had put him in the middle of a political mine field. Not to mention the fact that he owed Jerry. Big time. Friends like him didn't come along every day and he couldn't afford to let him down.

"Good... great," Madsen pushed the intercom button and leaned over slightly to talk into the speakerphone. "Terri, send in Dana Bright." Sitting back to relax for a moment Greg began to outline what needed to be done first.

"I'm going to have you work with Dana. She's a sharp girl, knows the ropes around here and has a good eye for details. Besides which, she's easy on the eyes, if you know what I mean."

Johnny laughed self-consciously knowing full well how easy.

"She'll take you over to Roark's and show you around to get started. In the mean time, I have the last letter that was sent to him by this activist group. Why don't you take a look at it and see what you think?" As he was talking Greg fished the letter out of a yellow file sitting to his right on the desk. He handed it to Johnny and waited.

From the second his fingers touched the surface of the plain white envelope; Johnny was overwhelmed with wave after wave of intense emotion. Anger, pain, rage, bitterness... He sucked in a huge breath and gripped his cane hard in an effort to steady himself long enough to take the letter out. He finally did, but when he looked at the letter, emotion again engulfed him. Panting hard by this time, he squeezed his eyes shut. Scenes began to flash in his mind in quick succession.

Cages were being smashed. Looking to the left, he saw three others, dressed in black with ski masks covering their faces. They were destroying a control panel of some kind.

"Come on, hurry, we don't have much time before someone gets here."

"Let 'em catch us I don't care! Capitalist pigs!"

"I'm not in this for your revolution and I don't plan on going to jail for it either, so let's go- now!"

Several of them took one last hit and then began to run for what looked like the edge of a dock.

A flash and then just as quickly, a different scene.

He was looking through he eyes of someone pasting cut out letters to a piece of paper, but the emotion was different. Sorrow, heartache, loss- emotions he knew very well, came up within him. He looked more closely at the paper it was wet in places. Tears, there were teardrops on the page. Faintly as if from another room, he heard the strains of a song.

"All by myself, don't wanna be all by myself anymore..."

The letter Johnny was holding dropped to the floor, like a leaf floating to the ground.

Just as quickly as they came, the images stopped. Almost without thought, his hand went to his face. It was wet with tears.

"Are you okay?" Greg asked, who by this time was on his feet and around the desk. In all his years as a newspaper man he'd never witnessed anything like that.

"Yeah.... yes, I'm a...I'm fine." John's head was clearing and he was trying to make sense of what he'd seen.

"Do you want a drink of water or something?"

"No, really, I'm fine" Coming to himself again, he tried to put the images in his head into words. "I couldn't see much. It was dark, but there were four of them- all wearing dark clothes and masks."

"That pretty much squares with Jerry's account of things. Go on."

"I got the feeling that at least one of them wasn't there for reasons of conscience. Maybe they were hired by the other three to do more damage... I don't know." This last part was hard. Not only did it not make any sense, Johnny wasn't sure if it was even relevant.

But, he guessed he should volunteer everything in case it was important later. "One more thing. When I touched the letter itself, I felt like I was looking through the eyes of someone who was grief-stricken over something or someone. That may not have anything to do with this group- but the person who sent this is in a lot of pain."

"So, no clue as to the identity of the sender or the others?" Madsen's face reflected his disappointment. Obviously he had hoped Johnny would be able to touch the letter and provide a description of the people they were dealing with.

"No, I'm sorry. I was looking through the senders eyes and everyone else was masked."

"Well...there's still...."

A knock on the door stopped Madsen before he could finish his thought. Dana opened the door and peeked around the corner.

"You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, Dana, come on in. You remember Mr. Smith, I'm sure." Greg smirked knowing full well Dana's fascination with Johnny Smith and writing about his abilities bordered on obsession. She remembered him all right.

One of Greg Madsen's many personality quirks led him to put people together in uncomfortable situations and see what happened. It wasn't always nice, but it was informative and often entertaining. Hey a guy had to have some fun in life.

The truth is, he could have paired Johnny with half a dozen other of his reporters, but he wanted to see what these two did when working together. He had a hunch it might be like putting a match to dynamite, definitely worth watching.

Until Greg pointed him out, Dana hadn't seen Johnny in the office with him. This day was looking up.

She had spent almost an hour on the phone with a difficult source that claimed to know something about the eco-vigilante group, but in the end, he hadn't told her much. Chances were, the guy was actually working for the group and was just feeding her a line of bull.

"What do you need, Greg, I'm kind of busy?"

Madsen ignored her usual insubordination and filled her in on her new assignment.

"Johnny here has come to work for us temporarily to help solve the 'Roark Industries' problem. I'm assigning him to you for as long as it takes to get to the bottom of it."

For the first time in as long as Greg Madsen could remember Dana Bright was speechless.


End file.
